


Never Again

by AgtSpooky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-27
Updated: 2007-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8702191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: For my best friend and the other half of my brain, charityflint, who "doesn't do wincest" but loved the original story anyway *g* and wanted to revisit it. She wanted: to have Dean experience the first of his own visions, now that he has Sam's ability. (A coda to Stronger Now).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title** : Never Again  
**Author** : [ ](http://agt-spooky.livejournal.com/profile)[**agt_spooky**](http://agt-spooky.livejournal.com/)  
**Pairing** : Sam/Dean  
**Rating** : PG-13  
**Word Count** : 3,910  
**Genre** : Angst  
**Warnings** : Wincest  
**Spoilers** : Mention of Nightmare  
**Disclaimer** : I don’t own them, more’s the pity. Just borrowing!  
**Author’s Notes** : Written for the SPN “timestamp” fic meme.  
Many thanks to those of you on my flist who gave me suggestions for the creature, I really appreciate it. Nothing really worked quite right for what I wanted, so I kinda winged it. :-)  
  
**Summary** : For my best friend and the other half of my brain, [ ](http://charityflint.livejournal.com/profile)[**charityflint**](http://charityflint.livejournal.com/), who “doesn’t do wincest” but loved the original story anyway *g* and wanted to revisit it. She wanted: “to have Dean experience the first of his own visions, now that he has Sam's ability.”  
  
  
  
 

**Never Again**  
By AgtSpooky  
  
March 9, 2007

  
  
  
(Two months after the events of [ Stronger Now](http://agt-spooky.livejournal.com/62788.html))  
  
  
It slammed into him while he was driving.  
  
Flying down a small back road through Jasper, Florida, the Impala purring beneath him, Dean felt the familiar twinge of pain in the center of his forehead, followed by wetness on his upper lip.  
  
He had time for a choked, “Sam – “, right foot trying to find the brake pedal as his head exploded in pain, the vision overtaking him and his world went white…  
  
_growling  
child screaming  
darkness  
howling  
cabin  
sharp teeth  
station wagon  
dark animal  
blood  
woman crying  
campfire  
_  
  
  
Dean came back to himself with a gasp, his whole body jerking. He forced his eyes open through the throbbing in his skull, disorientated, breathing heavily. His head lolled on his shoulders, connecting with something on his right as his eyesight cleared. The steering wheel of the Impala came into view and he went to reach for it, overwhelmed with a sense of urgency from his vision to _go_ and go now.  
  
But he couldn’t lift his arm and he glanced down in confusion, to see his younger brother’s hand wrapped firmly around his bicep, Sam’s arm a band across his chest. Dean turned his head, realizing it was resting against Sam’s shoulder. He looked up into the worried eyes of the young man and swallowed.  
  
Voice like sandpaper, Dean asked, “Did I – did I pass out?”  
  
Sam blew out a breath and eased up on the hold he had on Dean’s body, shaking his head. “No, not this time. But you were jerking around and I thought you might hit your head on the window.”  
  
Dean felt the press of Sam’s lips on the top of his head as he nodded his thanks and once again reached for the steering wheel. “C’mon, Sam, we gotta go…”  
  
Sam pushed his arm down. “Just hang on a minute, Dean. You’re in no condition to drive right this second. And you haven’t even told me what you saw.” Sam opened the passenger door and started to slide out, tugging Dean’s leather jacket. Dean sighed and moved across the leather seat, following his brother outside.  
  
Dean’s head swam as soon as he stood up and he swayed a bit, the throbbing behind his eyes still present. Sam was instantly at his side, an arm around his shoulders.  
  
“C’mon, Dean, sit down over here,” Sam urged, walking them toward the nearest tree, where Dean sank down to the ground, his back against the rough bark.  
  
“I’m gonna go move the car,” Sam told him. “Be right back.”  
  
Dean’s brow furrowed and he looked past his brother’s retreating form to see the Impala sitting at a crazy angle, half on the blacktop, half on the gravel shoulder. He wondered if he was able to get the car stopped himself or if Sam had taken over before Dean drove them into a tree.  
  
As Sam took care of getting the Impala completely pulled off the road and onto the shoulder, Dean took a minute to process the strange turn his life, and his brother’s, had taken in the past two months.  
  
They’d been walking on eggshells with each other ever since Dean had smashed the glass sphere, taking on Sam’s psychic vision ability as his own, freeing his brother from that burden and taking it on as his own.  
  
But had it truly worked? They wouldn’t know until one of them experienced a vision, and all they’d done was watch each other out of the corners of their eyes…waiting.  
  
And now the wait was over. They had their answer. And Dean had truly had his very own vision for the first time. Back in Kingsburg he’d been piggybacking on Sam’s powers, but when the sphere had shattered, Dean had effectively severed the connection between he and his brother. This vision was all his.  
  
Dean rubbed his forehead, feeling the pain start to subside. His visions were much more painful than Sam’s had been, took more of a toll on him, and after some thinking, Dean had figured out why.  
  
Sam’s body had been…hardwired for this power since birth. Even though it hadn’t manifested itself until Sam turned twenty-two, it was always there, latent, just waiting to be turned on, his body ready for it. But Dean, his body wasn’t built for this. He had forced it on himself and his body was struggling to adapt. Which also explained why Sam’s visions were like streaming video, showing the younger man complete scenes as they played out in his head. But Dean’s visions were just bits and pieces, flashes, that he struggled to put together and make sense out of.  
  
One thing he _had_ been able to make sense of was what the underlying…theme of his visions were going to be. While Sam’s had been focused on The Demon, Dean’s had all been about children. And this latest one had been no exception.  
  
Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking of his failure to save Lindsay McDonald in West Virginia. He hadn’t been fast enough, good enough and little Lindsay had paid with her life.  
  
_Never again_ , Dean vowed to himself. He’d never let another child die when he had the ability to stop it.  
  
Dean opened eyes he didn’t remember closing, wondering where Sam was. They needed to get on the road, the sooner the better.  
  
Sam was just crouching down next to him, a bottle of water and a small towel they’d snagged from their last motel in his hands. He offered both to Dean.  
  
“Here. You need to clean your face up.”  
  
Dean took the items and poured some water onto the towel and proceeded to wash off the dried blood from his nosebleed. Finished, he laid the towel aside and took a long drink from the water bottle.  
  
“How you feeling?”  
  
Dean heard the concern in Sam’s voice and tried to reassure his brother. “Better. Still hurts but it’s almost gone.” He paused, looked directly at Sam. “It’s another kid, Sam,” he told the younger man.  
  
Sam sighed and nodded his head, jaw tight. “What did you see?”  
  
Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the tree, letting the images from his vision play across the backs of his eyelids.  
  
“It was dark,” he began, “I heard growling, howling…an animal, running. It was big, I saw it’s teeth. There was a family, I saw their car. A cabin, a campfire.” Dean swallowed. “There’s a little boy, screaming…it took – it took him.” Dean paused, drew in a ragged breath. “There was blood…everywhere, the woman was crying…she was holding the boy.” Dean opened his eyes, looked at Sam. “It killed him,” he finished, voice tight.  
  
Sam ran a hand over his face. “Do you know what it was?”  
  
Dean shook his head. “It was a dog, a wolf…but…not. I really couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but it’s supernatural, whatever it is, I could feel it.”  
  
“Do you know where this is? Where the family is?”  
  
Dean blinked. “I – “ he trailed off, trying to remember. “Shit,” he swore, frustrated. “There was nothing – “  
  
“Wait,” Sam cut him off. “You said you saw their car. Did you see the license plate?”  
  
Dean gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I did see the car…it was an old station wagon…” He closed his eyes and concentrated, willing his mind to bring back that part of the vision. But it slipped away. He tried again, straining, his mind grasping…his jaw clenched, teeth grinding…  
  
He vaguely heard Sam’s voice, as if from a distance. “Dean, stop…you’ll get another nosebleed…Dean…”  
  
_Can’t stop_. This was his failure with Lindsay – unable to recall a crucial part of his vision until it was too late and she died. _Never again_ … He was close, he almost had it. There! The car… _hold on to it, don’t let it go_ …the license plates… _I can see them_ …  
  
Dean’s eyes flew open, breathing heavily, his head pounding once more, but he smiled triumphantly, even as he wiped away the crimson from his upper lip. He saw Sam look at the blood on his hand and his brother’s mouth compressed into a thin line, anger sparking from behind hazel eyes. Before Dean could say anything, Sam was up and striding away from Dean, body rigid.  
  
Dean stood, too quickly, braced a hand against the tree for just a second, then he was following after his brother.  
  
“Sam,” he called. “C’mon, stop.”  
  
To his surprise, Sam actually did stop walking, but he didn’t turn around. Dean walked up close behind his brother, reached out, but pulled back before touching him.  
  
“Sam. I wanted this,” Dean told him in a quiet, firm voice.  
  
Sam whirled around to face Dean. “Bullshit!” Sam yelled. “ _No one_ would want this – seeing people’s deaths.” Sam’s voice softened and he shook his head, reaching out and laying a hand on Dean’s hip. “Admit it, Dean – you only did this to take it away from me. To spare me from the visions and the nightmares. You take your role of protector too far sometimes, Dean. This is hurting you more than it did me and I hate it.”  
  
Dean hesitated at the grain of truth to Sam’s words. “It’s just…who I am, Sammy. I’m your brother and I’d do anything for you. You’re right. No one should have this…gift. But our family is…cursed with it. _You_ were cursed with it. And it was too much for you, on top of everything else. And _you_ can’t deny that your control on your telekinesis is getting better everyday now.” Dean’s hands rose to settle on Sam’s hips. “I’ll never be sorry I did this.”  
  
Dean saw Sam swallow, a soft smile gracing his face before Sam tipped his head down just a bit and rested his forehead against Dean’s.  
  
“I love you,” Sam whispered, deep emotion behind the three simple words.  
  
Dean felt his face flush an instant before Sam was capturing his mouth for a slow, tender kiss. Dean stepped even closer to his brother, bringing their bodies in contact as he let himself fall into the kiss. His arms entwined around Sam’s back, fingers twisting in the soft material of Sam’s shirt.  
  
As Sam’s tongue slipped inside his mouth, Dean felt a jolt race up his spine and he shivered. Their relationship was still so new that every time Dean kissed his brother it felt like the first time, and he hoped like hell it would still be like this ten, twenty years in the future.  
  
It was long moments later before the two men pulled back from the kiss, but remained in each other’s arms, there in the late afternoon sun. Dean rested his head against Sam’s shoulder, could feel his brother’s heartbeat against his own chest, soothing as they nearly beat in tandem with one another, as Sam held him close, one hand splayed against Dean’s lower back, the other encircling his waist.  
  
Dean let out a contented sigh, then lifted his head and Sam turned to look at him.  
  
“The license plates on the car. They’re from Georgia.”  
  
Sam nodded. “Let’s go.”  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Dean shifted restlessly in the passenger seat of the Impala, fingers twitching where they rested on his thighs, right foot tapping against the floorboard. Sam had refused to let him drive, fearful of another vision striking him and Sam not being quick enough to get the car stopped a second time.  
  
Though it pained him not to be behind the wheel of his baby, Dean could hardly argue with Sam’s logic. After all, it’s the exact same reason that Dean never wanted Sam to drive.  
  
But to be fair, Sam was an excellent driver and they were eating up the miles, on their way to Crooked River State Park, in St. Mary’s, Georgia.  
  
Just as Sam had done after his very first vision, which led them to Michigan and Max, this time it was Dean on the phone as Sam drove, impersonating a police officer to get the registration information on the license plates that he’d seen.  
  
The station wagon was owned by a Mr. Steven Richardson, who lived in Brunswick, Georgia. Knowing the family was camping somewhere in a cabin, but having nowhere else to start, the brothers headed to Brunswick.  
  
Donning their State Trooper uniforms, with Georgia patches this time, they started knocking on neighbor’s doors, asking if anyone knew where the Richardsons were. They hit pay dirt across the street, where the elderly woman informed Sam and Dean that the Richardsons were camping at Crooked River for the next four days.  
  
Silence lay thick and heavy inside the car as they grew closer to the state park. Dean was lost in thought, hearing the boy’s scream play over and over in his mind, barely registering the landscape outside the window. It had been raining off and on, the sky a dull grey with full darkness falling rapidly.  
  
“We’ll get there in time, Dean.”  
  
Sam’s soft voice startled Dean and he glanced over at his brother, nodding once before staring back out the window, hoping his brother was right.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Still wearing their state trooper uniforms, the brothers entered the ranger station a short distance inside the park’s entrance. Flashing their badges, they were quickly informed as to the Richardson’s campsite number and directions on how to get there.  
  
Mud and gravel spewed out behind the Impala’s wheels as Sam raced down the access road, as Dean felt a clock ticking down inside his head. Had they gotten here fast enough or had another child lost their life?  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Sam pulled the car over, off the access road and out of sight, a short distance from the Richardson’s cabin. Dean was out the door before the car even stopped moving, tearing off his trooper jacket and throwing it back inside the car. He strode quickly to the trunk, motioning impatiently to Sam.  
  
“C’mon, c’mon. Gimme the keys,” he told his brother, who tossed them to Dean and then removed his own state trooper jacket.  
  
The air was damp and slightly cool, the full moon high in the sky, bathing the woods in blues and whites as Dean threw open the secret compartment in the trunk and started pulling out weapons.  
  
The hair on the back of his neck was standing up and his heart was pounding. It was quiet in the direction of the cabin – they’d made it here in time and Dean was damn well going to save this child.  
  
Still not sure what they were going up against, Sam armed himself with a .45, the clip filled with silver bullets, and Dean took a machete, then the brothers made their way quietly and carefully to the side of the Richardson’s cabin. A station wagon was parked there and Sam looked at the license plates and nodded an affirmative at Dean.  
  
Making their way toward the back of the cabin, they could see a campfire burning bright and Dean blinked as images of his vision – of this cabin, the car, the fire, the screams – raced through his mind.  
  
The back door suddenly opened and the brothers took a step back, flattening themselves against the side of the building. Dean peeked around the corner as a young blonde woman emerged, laughing, a boy of about seven years old bouncing along behind her.  
  
“Ok, ok, Mikey,” she spoke to her son with a smile. “We’ll have s’mores in just a minute.”  
  
She led the boy over to the campfire and put down the plate of chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers on the picnic table. The little boy climbed eagerly up onto the bench, and reached for a marshmallow.  
  
Dean looked away, back at his brother. He could feel his blood thrumming in his veins, the adrenaline starting to course through his body, every sense heightened – something was out there, waiting to kill this child.  
  
Dean leaned his head close to his brother’s ear. “I don’t know what direction this thing came from,” he whispered. “Circle around the other side.”  
  
Sam nodded and moved off silently, while Dean turned to watch the family again. The young woman was skewering marshmallows onto sticks while playfully batting her son’s hand away from the chocolate pieces.  
  
She turned and looked back at the cabin. “Steve?” she called. “Steve, can you bring some napkins out?” Not receiving an answer, she called his name once more then shook her head.  
  
“I’ll be right back, kiddo,” she told the boy, ruffling his hair, then she walked back to the cabin and inside.  
  
Dean tensed, eyes scanning the woods, watching for any movement. This had to be when it happened. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mikey reach once again for a marshmallow, and the soft, white treat rolled off the table and onto the ground.  
  
The moment the little boy hopped down off the bench it happened.  
  
Dean saw the underbrush ahead of him and slightly to his right shake an instant before the creature burst through. Huge and canine, with black matted fur, it’s mouth was pulled back in a snarl, exposing almost fang-like teeth and eyes that glowed red. It charged across the clearing, growling, heading right for the child.  
  
Dean was in motion in a split second, yelling out his brother’s name, sprinting toward the little boy, who was frozen in fear. Dean’s legs ate up the short distance, but the thing was fast and he was afraid he wasn’t going to reach the child in time.  
  
But he did, just as the creature leaped. No time to swing his machete, Dean grabbed Mikey with one arm and turned his body, crouching down, shielding the boy, hoping to protect him.  
  
Dean steeled himself, waiting for the pain of claws and teeth ripping into his back, but instead the sharp report of three gunshots filled the air. A high pitched wounded cry sounded directly behind him and he heard a dull thud.  
  
Releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Dean stood and turned, spying the body of the creature lying a few feet away. Then his brother was by his side and he turned back around to look at Sam, whose gun was still smoking.  
  
“You Ok?” Sam asked, breathing hard.  
  
“Thanks to you I am,” Dean answered with a grin, heart still pounding from the close call. “Here, take Mikey,” he continued, starting to guide the crying child toward his brother. “I want to – “  
  
Sam’s eyes widened at something over Dean’s shoulder at the same time Dean heard a growl. Apparently silver bullets didn’t kill, only stunned whatever this thing was, because as Dean turned, the creature rolled to its feet and leaped at him in one fluid motion.  
  
“Dean!”  
  
Sam’s cry was sharp in his ear as Dean tried to raise his machete in time, knowing his body was blocking his brother’s, preventing Sam from using his gun again.  
  
A moment before the creature would be upon Dean, it’s body suddenly jerked in mid-leap, flying backwards and smashing into a large tree.  
  
Dean shoved Mikey at Sam, yelling, “Go!” as he barreled toward the stunned animal before it could regain it’s footing, once again grateful for his brother’s ability. Just as it started to rise, Dean was sliding to a stop in the wet leaves, dropping to his knees as he raised the machete with both hands high over his head, then swung downward with all his strength.  
  
He felt the blade pierce flesh, then bone, and he kept pushing until he met no more resistance and the creature’s head was severed from its body. His breath came in short pants as he turned his head and caught his brother’s gaze. Sam’s hazel eyes reflected relief as he blew out a long breath, letting his shoulders sag.  
  
Before either brother could speak, the door to the cabin flew open and Mikey’s parents came running out, shouting for their son. As they drew closer to the Winchesters, Dean wondered how they were going to explain all of this, and what exactly this thing was that he’d killed.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
A few hours later, with the adrenaline rush having worn off, Dean let the exhaustion of the day overtake him. He and Sam had found a motel after leaving Crooked River, and the Richardsons, with a tall tale of being forest rangers, tracking a rabid wolf. Thankfully the parents had been too grateful that Sam and Dean had saved their son to question things too closely.  
  
Sam and Dean had wrapped the creature’s body in a tarp and put it in the Impala’s trunk, then drove deeper into the state park where they removed the body and examined it with the aid of their flashlights. Sam snapped a few pictures with his camera phone, hoping to be able to identify it with the aid of his computer later, then they burned the carcass.  
  
Dean claimed first shower at the motel, eager to wash off the blood and smell of the creature from his body, as Sam fired up the laptop, in full research geek boy mode. When Dean emerged from the bathroom later he heard Sam mumbling something about Scottish and Welsh folklore and almost having figured out what that thing could’ve been. But Dean’s limbs and eyelids were heavy and his attention was focused on the bed instead.  
  
Now Dean was clean and dry and warm underneath the blankets, with sleep just about to claim him, when he felt the mattress dip behind him. His brother’s warm, naked body pressed up against his back and Dean leaned into him with a sigh, eyes still closed.  
  
Sam fit their bodies together, entwining their legs, slipping an arm around Dean’s chest, resting his large hand over Dean’s heart, fingers rubbing absently on Dean’s skin.  
  
They lay quietly like that for several minutes, with Sam softly, lazily kissing the back of Dean’s neck, the top of his shoulders, behind his ear. Sam’s ministrations were so soothing, Dean felt himself start to drift off, but he fought back his weariness for just a few minutes more.  
  
“Why kids, Sam?” he asked his brother, voice just above a whisper.  
  
Sam stilled his movements for a second. “Maybe because of who they’re going to grow up to be.”  
  
“Like...a scientist that cures cancer or something?”  
  
Dean felt Sam shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe a hunter. Mikey might be the first of a new generation.”  
  
Dean felt a warm feeling grow inside his chest at that thought and he smiled to himself as Sam placed another kiss on his shoulder.  
  
“You were great out there tonight, Dean.”  
  
Dean rolled over onto his back so that he could see his brother. “Yeah, well, you weren’t too shabby yourself,” he grinned, then turned serious. “That’s twice you’ve saved my life in the last two months because of your telekinesis.”  
  
“And you saved Mikey’s because of your vision,” Sam replied.  
  
“We make a damn good team, Sam. Now more than ever.”  
  
Dean could see it in Sam’s eyes, the exact moment when his brother finally accepted what Dean had done for him, for _them_ , and Sam smiled tenderly down at him.  
  
“Yeah, Dean, we do,” Sam whispered, before he captured Dean’s mouth for a kiss that went on and on.  
  
**THE END**


End file.
